My Body Houses Eleven Rats – Frank Solanki

(original poem found at)

My body houses eleven rats
They nibble and chew at my heart
The first one’s not afraid of cats
The second finds murder an art

The third one often plays dirty
Keeps running around here and there
The fourth is granted full liberty
The fifth rat is her heir

The sixth rat drinks all my blood
The seventh likes to have a smoke
The eighth one rolls around in mud
The ninth’s too wise for a joke

The tenth has a library to keep
Literature of all known pains
The last one puts everyone to sleep
So tomorrow they can start again

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Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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